punch_kicker15

“Willow, wake up.” Frog Fears’ modulated voice managed to sound insistent and a little judgmental.

Willow opened her eyes and quickly squeezed them shut. Was sunlight always that bright? She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. “Don’t wanna,” she mumbled. Her head was pounding, but if she just lay still enough, she might be able to fall back asleep.

“But one of the techs found some Obilhar demon eggs in the server room.”

That was enough to wake Willow from the dead. She sat up, picked up the phone, unlocked the screen, and looked through her texts.

“It looks like Natasha teleported the eggs to an uninhabited area in Antarctica and Hana cast a repellent spell already. Did you really need to wake me up for that?” Willow wanted to scowl at her phone, but moving her eyebrows might intensify her headache.

“I wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted them to do.”

Willow put the phone back on the nightstand and lay down on the bed. “It was. Going back to sleep now.”

“But you’ve already slept twenty-nine percent longer than you normally do. Are you suffering from alcohol poisoning? Should I call a doctor?”

Willow rolled over on her side. “I’m just hung over. And one of the best hangover cures is sleep.”

She inhaled, breathed in the scent of coffee, and sat back up. The prospect of coffee seemed even more tempting than sleep.

She slipped Frog Fears in her pocket and headed for the kitchen. Giles sat on one of the stools at the kitchen bar, staring at a plate of toast with a bit of trepidation. Maybe he was feeling as queasy as she did right now.

He’d laid out a mug of coffee, a glass of water, and an aspirin for her. As gestures went, it was particularly dramatic, but right now it felt tremendously romantic. There were some times when quiet, thoughtful actions were far more loving than big showy ones.

Willow sat down next to him and sipped some coffee.

“Rough night?” Giles asked.

“Pretty bad. I should probably try being Moderation Girl when it comes to scotch.” She smiled at him. “You look a little--rumpled. It’s kind of cute when your hair sticks up like that.”

“Oh, dear Lord. I must remedy that immediately.” Giles smoothed down his hair.

She laughed. “What’s wrong with being cute?”

“It classes me in the same category as our kittens and those insipid teenaged singers that the younger Slayers love so much.” Giles took a small bite of toast, and grimaced. “We should probably talk more about the--logistics of your parents’ visit. Have you told your parents about--us?”

“Well, I told my dad last night. He seemed a little--freaked.” Giles looked a little frowny at that, so she added, “Maybe not so much freaked as confused. I mean, the last time he’d heard about my love life, I was an out-and-proud lesbian. But I’m sure once they get here, they’ll fall back into their usual patterns.”

One of the kittens wandered into the kitchen. The tabbies were hard to tell apart, but from the darker stripes on her legs, it looked like Hermione. She mewed at Giles until he picked her up and placed her on his lap. Willow resisted the urge to tell him how cute he was again.

She said, “My mom will probably hole herself up in the guest room with her laptop for most of the trip. I think she’d actually prefer not to stay with us, but between the World Series, the Marvel movie shooting downtown, and the anime convention, there isn’t a decent hotel room available within fifty miles. But I’m sure the guest room is fine, or she could always take her laptop to Starbucks if she needs a change of scene.”

“What about your father?”

Willow shrugged. “He’s occasionally a little more curious about me than my mom, but he’s also pretty distractible. He gets these enthusiasms about things, and he’ll get obsessive. Like the time he got into the science of baking, and he made sourdough bread twice a day for months until he perfected it.”

“That explains so much,” Giles murmured.

“It does not!” she exclaimed. “I’ve only ever been obsessively interested in magic. And computers.”

“And Moulin Rouge--”

“Ok, maybe you have a point. Anyway, I bet if I take him to the Great Lakes Science Center, he’ll get obsessive about volcanos or wind turbines or whatever and forget to ask what exactly it is I do for a living. Between that and the usual Hellmouth obliviousness field, I think we can get through without them finding out.”

“You’re going to be balancing your usual duties with the counsel, planning a wedding between sentient iPhones, which will be attended by Slayers, Watchers, witches and demons. You don’t think your parents will notice anything amiss while they’re staying with us?”

Maybe it was the caffeine and aspirin doing its work, but her natural optimism was returning. “Hey, we’re two smart people with plenty of smart friends. My parents can be awful and judgey, but aren’t Marple and Poirot. They’ll stay clueless. I mean, my mom completely forgot about that burning at the stake thing about five minutes after it happened.”

Giles was giving her his most skeptical look, but really, what on the supernatural front could possibly go so wrong that her parents would notice?